If he had killed the human viper at his feet, if his own hands had meted out his punishment, he would not have felt the clammy terror that wrapped itself about him in the darkness.

But he had come too late.

It was Nada who had killed Jed Hawkins.

Nada, with her woman's soul just born in all its glory, had taken the life of her foster-father.

And Canadian law knew no excuse for killing.
The chill crept to his finger-tips, and unconsciously, in a childish sort of way, he sobbed between his clenched teeth.